HL 



^fc^ ie^^, /O— /fiSV. 



HN 61 Vj $ I f 

■W3 it 3f * 

Copy i _y 



THE REFORM SPIRIT OF THE DAY. 



AN 



ORATION 



BEFORE 



THE PHI BETA KAPPA SOCIETY 



OF 



HARVARD UNIVERSITY, 



JULY 18, 1850. 



BY 



TIMOTHY WALKER. 



BOSTON AND CAMBRIDGE: 
PUBLISHED BY JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY. 

1850. 



\ 



THE REFORM SPIRIT OF THE DAY. 



AN 



ORATION 



BEFORE 



THE PHI BETA KAPPA SOCIETY 



OF 



HARVARD UNIVERSITY, 



JULY 18, 1850. 



/ 



<V 



V 



BY 



/ 



TIMOTHY WALKER 




BOSTON AND CAMBRIDGE: 
PUBLISHED BY JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY. 

1850. 



a* 



>^$ 



? 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850, by 

James Munroe & Co., 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



CAMBRIDGE: 
METCALF AND COMPANY, 

PRINTERS TO THE UNIVERSITY. 



ORATION. 



Mr. President and Brethren : — 

After many years of separation, I come once more 
to this ancient seat of learning, my revered Alma 
Mater. And I come with mingled emotions of joy 
and fear. 

I rejoice to meet again the sons of Harvard, within 
these venerable shades, and feel once more the hal- 
lowed influences of this place. How often, in my 
pilgrimage beyond the mountains, have I longed to 
revisit this Mecca of my youth ! 

I rejoice, too, in the occasion of this reunion. I 
count it a great privilege, that I am permitted to 
attend the anniversary exercises of this time-honored 
Society, into which it was my good fortune and my 
pride to be initiated, just one fourth of a century ago. 

But, on the other hand, I fear for the part which I 
am called upon to take in these solemnities. For in 
such an assemblage of scholars and sava?is, — before 



LC Control Number 




tmp96 027172 






such an array of beauty and wit, of genius and learn- 
ing, — the selectest of the land, — what can I hope to 
utter, that shall be at all worthy of the place, the 
presence, or the occasion % How dare I, — whose 
mind has been chained down for years to one en- 
grossing and exacting pursuit, — w T ho have so seldom 
spoken, unless to courts and juries, — so seldom 
written anything but the jargon of the law, — how 
dare I, — thus hackneyed by the dull and laborious 
routine of a lawyer, — whose memory of Greek is now 
scarcely that of a" departed joy," and whose Latin 
is reduced to phrases which Cicero would not under- 
stand, — how dare such a one as I presume to 
officiate at this high literary festival % 

I have asked myself these questions very often, 
since, in an unguarded hour, I accepted your too 
nattering invitation. Once, when I was some years 
younger, I had the wisdom to decline such an honor. 
And why did my good genius desert me now ] Alas ! 
I know not, unless it be that one of the alleged requi- 
sites of my profession has somehow outgrown the 
rest. But regrets are now too late. I am here to 
attempt what is called an Oration ; and in the selec- 
tion of a subject, I have considered, not how I 
may, for an hour or so, best entertain or instruct 
such an auditory, but how I may probably least 
fatigue them. I shall name my subject 



THE REFORM SPIRIT OF THE DAY; 

and, discoursing upon this text, I shall have occasion 
to refer to some of the characteristic features of the 
times. I may as well add, that, from necessity, as well 
as inclination, I shall use great plainness of speech, 
attempting no rhetorical ornament whatsoever. 

If there be any single trait by which the historian 
will distinguish the present from all past ages, it is 
the all-pervading enthusiasm, or, I may say, rage for 
Reform. It agitates every nation, and all classes; 
and it comprehends nearly every subject of thought 
and action. Everywhere, on every matter, and in all 
ways, the great heart of humanity throbs for reform. 
The shout that goes up from myriad voices, all over 
the globe, is, — Let old things be done away, and all 
things become new; let the old landmarks be oblit- 
erated. We will no longer walk in the ancient 
paths ; no longer work with the ancient tools ; no 
longer think in the ancient formulas ; no longer be- 
lieve the ancient creeds. The times are sadly out of 
joint. We must reform them altogether. To this 
end, we pronounce antiquity a humbug, precedent a 
sham, prescription a lie, and reverence folly. We 
have been priest-ridden, and king-ridden, and judge- 
ridden, and school-ridden, and wealth-ridden, long 
enough. And now the time is come to declare our 
independence in all these respects. We cannot, in- 



6 



deed, change the past, — that is for ever immutably 
fixed ; but we can repudiate it, and we do. We can 
shape our own future, and it shall be a glorious one. 
Now shall commence a new age, — not of gold, or 
of silver, or of iron, but an age of emancipation. 
We will upheave society from its deepest foundations, 
and have all but a new creation. In religion and 
politics, medicine and law, morals and manners, our 
mission is to revolutionize the world. And therefore 
we wage indiscriminate war against all establish- 
ments. Our ancestors shall no longer be our masters. 
We renounce all fealty to their antiquated notions. 
Henceforth to be old is to be questionable. We 
will hold nothing sacred which has long been wor- 
shipped, and nothing venerable which has long 
been venerated. These are the glad tidings which 
we, the reformers of the age, are commissioned to 
announce. 

Reform, then, is the watchword of the hour. And 
now what signifies this far-resounding word? Lit- 
erally, to remake, reconstruct, recreate. But it 
does not necessarily signify to improve, to make 
better, to exalt. When we have pulled one thing 
down, and put another in its place, we have certainly 
achieved a reform; but whether it shall prove a 
benefit or an injury, a blessing or a curse, is prob- 
lematical. So that a reformer, however benevolent 
his designs, is not necessarily a benefactor, but may, 
by possibility, be the greatest of malefactors. 



For let this be remembered, — all reform begins 
with destruction. This must be the first step. Some- 
thing which has existed and answered a purpose — 
perhaps may have been useful, and cherished by the 
tenderest associations — is first to be demolished. 
The old mansion, which has so long sheltered us, 
must be torn down before the new one can be com- 
menced. This is, in itself, an evil, out of which 
good may come, — may, but not must. This, in re- 
spect to any reform, depends upon several contingen- 
cies. How long must we wait for the substitute, 
sleeping, as it were, in the open air? What will 
be its character when we get it? How long will 
it take us to become used to it, and to test it, so that 
we can say, with certainty, whether we have gained 
a better thing ? These are very pregnant questions ; 
and the conclusion is, that all reform is, at first, 
mere experiment for good or evil, as the event may 
prove, but always attended with inconvenience in 
the beginning. 

Again, there is something very dear and precious 
in the idea of rest, repose, stability. To this 
state all things in nature tend ; and the soul yearns 
for it as her highest good, — longing to be anchored 
on some rock of ages. But this spirit of reform 
is a restless, bustling, disturbing spirit, utterly at 
war with a state of repose. This, again, is in itself 
an evil, though it may be more than counterbalanced 



8 



by the supervening good. And the evil itself would 
be greatly diminished, if reforms could be conducted 
slowly and deliberately, giving time to adapt ourselves 
gradually to them. But, unfortunately, moderation 
rarely suits the temper of reformers. Their zeal is so 
fervent, that they cannot brook delay. What they 
have to do must be done quickly. They reject the 
good old maxims of " Hasten slowly," and " Slow 
and sure " ; and all must be hurry, flurry, agitation. 
Down goes one thing, and up goes another, before 
you can well say which is up and which is down. 

In this hurly-burly, therefore, " we know not what 
a day may bring forth." We can hardly say, " Suf- 
ficient unto the day is the evil thereof" ; because, to 
actual present ills we must add the perplexing fear 
of change. What, for example, would not the dis- 
creet people of France — if such there be — have 
given, at any time within our memory, for a single 
year of certain, profound repose 1 And how other- 
wise is it with usl What have we, in our institu- 
tions, which we can rest upon as established 1 What, 
on the contrary, but shocks and revulsions, ups and 
downs, ins and outs, one doctrine to-day, and the 
opposite to-morrow, through the endless seesaw of 
political platforms 1 Who now has absolute confi- 
dence in anything which depends wholly upon men'? 
Who now has an abiding faith in anything human I 
What is there now, except mathematical truth, 
which is not called in question 1 



9 



Truly, this active spirit of reform must achieve a 
vast amount of substantial good, before it can com- 
pensate the world for the evil resulting from this 
everlasting fluctuation, this distressing uncertainty, 
this continued instability. If we look to Religion, 
we are constrained to say that the " Ages of Faith " 
are no more. I read of no sect in which there are 
not growing divisions and subdivisions, unless it be 
in the Roman Church ; and I think we can discern 
ominous signs of schism even there. We know that 
the temporal throne of St. Peter totters ; and is not 
the idea of spiritual infallibility, which has given to 
that Church its almost miraculous dominion, begin- 
ning to lose its despotic power ? So I construe the 
signs of the times. But, however this may be, of 
one thing I feel sure, as to all sects and denomina- 
tions, — namely, that in no past age has the mind of 
Christendom been so shaken by doubts, so harrassed 
by fears, so agitated, feverish, and distracted, as now, 
— that at no time has there been so little of fixed, 
undoubting, impregnable faith. I do not say, so 
little of religion, but of faith. I repeat, therefore, 
that the ages of faith are no more. 

And the same may be said of Loyalty. Truthful- 
ly speaking, there is now no such thing as settled law, 
meaning thereby that potent municipal voice which 
men reverence as an oracle, and obey without ques- 
tion, simply because it is the law. What is there 

2 



10 



extant now, which at all realizes the magnificent 
conception of Sir William Jones 1 

" When sovereign Law, that state's collected will, 
O'er thrones and globes elate 
Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill ; 
Smit by her sacred frown, 
The fiend, Discretion, like a vapor sinks, 
And e'en the all-dazzling crown 
Hides his faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks." 

So little of reality is there now in this sublime 
picture, that one might be almost tempted to call it 
bombast. I refer not now to Mobs, which have of 
late become so frequent that they hardly shock us ; 
for the rabble, when they thus trample upon law, do 
but follow examples set for them in high places. 
The fruit we thus reap is of the tree which we have 
planted. If the thorns have torn us, and we bleed, 
the fault is all our own. For when each man in 
power, disregarding the most solemn and well con- 
sidered determinations, assumes the right to construe 
even our organic law as he chooses to understand it ; 
and when judges, from our highest benches, feel no 
scruple in setting aside prior adjudications upon the 
same point, if it happen to suit their own peculiar 
notions, I can hardly blame the mob for holding in 
contempt what is thus made so contemptible. If I 
speak strongly on this subject, it is because I feel 
strongly. For who can now venture to declare with 
confidence what is law, and what is not? I will 



11 



hazard the assertion, that there is scarcely now a sin- 
gle principle, even of constitutional law, which one 
can safely say is permanently settled. And in that 
great aggregate of principles, accumulating from age 
to age, which we call the common law, the confusion 
and uncertainty are still greater. I hail, therefore, 
with exceeding satisfaction, the efforts at law reform, 
so rife throughout the land, at least as far as they 
converge to one of the points which I will briefly in- 
dicate. I refer to what is called Codification. For 
I hold it to be a disgrace to this age and country, 
that so much of our law should remain unwritten, — 
hidden, I may say, in the breasts of our judges, — or, 
if ascertainable at all, to be ascertained only by ran- 
sacking thousands of volumes of Reports and Digests, 
and then liable to be overruled the very day the 
search is finished. If the law be really a system of 
rules and principles, these rules and principles cer- 
tainly can be collected together, arranged in systemat- 
ic order, expressed in precise language, and clothed 
with a legislative sanction, which not one tithe of our 
law ever yet had. This is my idea of a Code of Law. 
The object is not necessarily to innovate; but to 
render certain what is now so deplorably uncertain, 
and accessible to all what so few can now by possi- 
bility know. No wonder that Napoleon, contemplat- 
ing such an achievement, and overlooking all his vic- 
tories, should exultingly exclaim, "I shall go down 



12 



to future ages, with trie Code in my hand ! " — or 
that Gibbon, when summing up his admirable life of 
Justinian, should say, " When the vain titles of the 
victories of Justinian shall have crumbled into dust, 
the name of the Legislator will be inscribed upon 
imperishable tablets." In truth, I can conceive of 
no higher claim to an apotheosis, than that of the 
framer of a good code of law. O, if some Marshall 
or Parsons, some Pinckney or Story, could have left 
such a legacy to his countrymen ! For to expect 
so transcendent a boon from any legislative body, as 
their own work, would be to expect an impossibility. 
The Justinian of this republic must be a man 
versed in all the lore of jurisprudence ; retired from 
active labor at the bar, or on the bench ; and willing 
to devote all the energies of mature life to the glori- 
ous task before him. "When such a man shall ap- 
pear, I, for one, will rank him above all heroes, sages, 
or statesmen, — all benefactors or philanthropists, — 
I will all but worship him. For words can hardly 
express the extent of his deserving. He, too, will go 
down to future ages with the code in his hand. 

But, descending from these more general views, 
let us advert to some particular matters, by way of 
illustration. And to begin where all things hopeful 
should begin, let us refer to Education. This should 
be, to every human being, the most important thing 
on earth, — the process of all processes. Yet the 



13 



great effort now is, so to simplify, abridge, and cur- 
tail it, as to make it no process at all. The child 
must be put through to manhood by express. That 
forming period once known as youth is now a poet's 
dream. The child per saltum becomes a man, — at 
least in his own opinion, — and, before his beard is 
fairly grown, aspires to be a governor, judge, or leg- 
islator. The " atrocious crime " now is not, as in 
the time of Pitt, to be a young, but an old man. 
For these juvenile men, being several times more 
numerous than old and experienced men, can, if they 
so please, band themselves together into young men's 
parties, and call themselves " Young England," or 
" Young America," or by some such sonorous title, 
and thus carry things their own way. We may say, 
then, in this age of reform, that old men are at a dis- 
count, and boys at a premium. But boys are not to 
blame for this. They but play the part for which 
we educate them. We have abolished the rod, and 
dispensed with subordination. Nay, for fear of over- 
taxing the young brain, as the cant is, we have 
dispensed with labor also, as far as this is possible. 
We make the pupil a passive recipient, rather than 
an active agent. We furnish facilities, instead of 
imposing tasks, and teach results instead of princi- 
ples. So that the old and thorough discipline of 
education, in which its chief value consists, is nearly 
lost sight of, and the child, thus overleaping youth, 



14 



precociously becomes a man, eager to contend for the 
prizes of life. And now to choose a profession ! The 
probabilities are ten to one, that the choice will be 
made with an ultimate view to political distinction ; 
for this is the besetting sin of the age. How many 
a good mechanic or farmer is every year spoiled by 
this ambition, as universal as it is foolish, to make a 
figure before the public ! When will our young men 
learn that true respectability depends, not upon the 
place they fill, but how they fill it ; that all honest 
occupations are, in themselves, equally honorable; 
that Franklin, for example, was as truly worthy while 
working at his printing-press, as when wresting the 
lightning from heaven, and the sceptre from tyrants ; 
nay, that, as a lesson to mankind, this humbler 
part of Franklin's life is of infinitely greater value 
than that in which he stood before kings, and could 
look down upon them ; because it illustrates, better, 
perhaps, than any other historical example, the great 
truths, that every man must be the founder of his 
own fortunes, and that no man was ever made great 
by the accident of birth, or the aid of powerful 
friends. These circumstances may give him oppor- 
tunity ; but to avail himself of this opportunity must 
be his own act. All true greatness is both indepen- 
dent and self-dependent. 

But let us look next at the Social Relations, 
Here reform is especially busy. I have no time or 



15 



wish to refer to Owenism, or Fourierism, or Social- 
ism, in any of its Protean forms ; bnt will seek my 
illustration in the condition of Woman. And what 
part does she play in the drama of reform ] Much 
certainly has been achieved for her benefit. Her 
legal rights are beginning to be acknowledged and 
protected. The legal existence of a married woman 
is no longer entirely merged in that of her husband. 
The ancient doctrine was, that husband and wife 
constitute but one person, and that person is the 
husband ; he being the substantive, and she the mere 
adjective. Accordingly, Milton makes Eve address 
Adam, in this submissive strain : — 

" My author and disposer, what thou bidd'st, 
Unargued I obey ; so God ordains. 
God is thy law, thou mine ; to know no more 
Is woman's happiest knowledge and her praise." 

The argument ran thus : — The husband is gener- 
ally the stronger. Policy therefore requires that he 
should have dominion, because in his hands the 
power supports itself. Give but the legal suprema- 
cy to the wife, and she would need external inter- 
ference in order to maintain it. Or give her an ab- 
solute equality, and the effect would be the same. 
You hold out to her a dangerous lure, when you 
release her from that necessity of pleasing under 
which she now acts. Man forgets his self-love while 
secure of his prerogative. He bears rule over her 



16 



person and conduct, and she bears rule over his in- 
clinations. He governs by law ; she by persuasion. 
I am merely stating the argument, as I find it in the 
books, not justifying it. On the contrary, I look 
upon the change everywhere going on in the legal 
condition of woman, whereby she is admitted to 
something like an equality with man, as one of the 
very best reforms of the age ; and I trust it will not 
stop here. For I can see neither policy, justice, nor 
humanity, in many of the doctrines which still exist. 
They bear every mark of their barbarous origin. 
Were society now to be reorganized, I feel sure that 
woman would not be made the helpless thing she 
now is. It would never enter the mind of a legisla- 
tor to place her so much at the mercy of man. He 
who should broach such an idea for the first time, in 
our day, would be fain to fly from the execrations of 
Christians, and herd with Turks, who have been said 

" To hold that woman is but dust, 
A soulless toy for tyrant's lust." 

But all of that sex are not satisfied with this grad- 
ual amelioration of their legal condition. They sigh 
for political rights ; and are holding conventions to 
devise ways and means of securing them. They are 
no longer contented with their influence as wives, 
mothers, sisters, daughters, authors, teachers, and 
companions, — an influence every day increasing, and 
where the sphere is boundless, — but they seek to be 



17 



voters, legislators, governors, judges, and, for aught 
I know, generals and commodores. The number 
of aspirants may not yet be large ; but they already 
make a very considerable noise, and I think the 
party is likely to grow. For when we come to the 
question of abstract natural right, I am unable to 
find a reason for excluding the better half of the 
human race from the transcendent right of political 
equality, against their will. But the question of ex- 
pediency is a very different one, and may safely be 
left to the taste of the refined portion of the sex. I 
think that, if there were no constitutional exclusion, 
they would instinctively exclude themselves. I do 
not believe they wish to be unsexed, and turned into 
Amazons, by the rude and coarse encounters of the 
bar-room, the hustings, the stump, the caucus, or even 
the senate, as senates are now. Think you that 
Otway, if he had often seen women in these manly 
predicaments, could have pronounced upon that sex 
the splendid panegyric found in Venice Preserved % 

11 O woman ! lovely woman ! Nature made thee 
To temper man ; we had been brutes without you ! 
Angels are painted fair to look like you ; 
There 's in you all that we believe of heaven ; — 
Amazing- brightness, purity and truth, 
Eternal joy, and everlasting love ! " 

No, no, when true women can be such " minis- 
tering angels " in private and domestic life, — so 
heightening all mortal joys, and lessening all mortal 
3 



18 



sorrows, — there is no danger of their descending 
from this blessed sphere into the foul arena of poli- 
ticians and demagogues. 

In connection with this subject of social reform, I 
may here refer to the matter of Constitution-making, 
in which the public mind is just now unusually exer- 
cised. The probability is, that, ere long, — so ephem- 
eral are these productions, — a constitution which has 
seen ten years of active service will deserve a place 
in some museum or curiosity-shop. And to this, in 
the abstract, there may be no objection. Even if 
constitutions be made no better, — provided they be 
made no worse, — the people are furnished with an 
innocent excitement, and ambitious young men have 
an uncommonly good opportunity for display. But 
what are the probabilities of improving our consti- 
tutions, with all the present environments'? This 
matter of constitution-making, properly considered, 
is a very serious thing, — the most serious that a 
people can engage in. When they have uttered their 
voice in this manner, they have done the most sover- 
eign act this side of heaven. For weal or woe, they 
have pronounced the most authoritative earthly fiat. 
Their voice thus uttered is not, indeed, the voice of 
God, as we so often hear said, but comes nearest to it 
of any voice on earth; for they thus establish a 
fundamental law, by which all powers and privileges 
are limited and denned. They thus reduce to prac- 



19 



tice what was once a theory only, they actually 
make a social compact. If they make a good one, 
patriotism, philanthropy, can no farther go. But if 
they make a bad one? The stake, to say the least, 
is tremendous; and unless the evils to be redressed 
are great, the evils to be induced may be more than 
a counterpoise. The tendency now is to make radi- 
cal innovations, which may or may not turn out to 
be improvements. But their aim is one which, if 
these parchments could accomplish it, would make 
the earth a paradise. If the human condition could 
be perfectly equalized, so that there should be no 
high or low, no rich or poor, no master or servant, 
Eutopia would be no longer a dream. And this kind 
of equality is what the reformers chiefly seek to bring 
about, by means of new constitutions. They are not 
content that all shall be born equal, — that is, with 
equal rights, — but, as far as possible, they would have 
all remain equal in condition, at least with respect to 
property. To this end, some would have an absolute 
community of goods ; others would limit the quantity 
which may be owned by an individual ; and others, 
again, would exempt a certain amount from liability 
for debt; and so on. Now, in all these benevolent 
projects, it seems to me that two things are lost sight 
of. In the first place, no two human beings ever 
were, in point of fact, exactly equal, either mentally 
or physically ; and from this it follows, in the second 



20 



place, that to keep men equal in condition must be 
the work of constant force. Now, freedom is quite 
as dear and precious as equality; and if you leave 
men free to act, they will be free to differ, and will 
differ. So that inequality of condition, being the 
natural offspring of liberty, will, in spite of consti- 
tutions, always form a part of the human lot. And 
this inevitable inequality will never cease to furnish 
a pretext for declaiming against aristocracy. Those 
who happen to be below will naturally envy those 
above, and rail against — they know not what, and 
therefore call it fate, for making the distinction. 

Now, aristocracy — a much abused word — literally 
means a government of the lest ; and one might fairly 
presume that such would be the best government. But 
these sticklers for actual equality do not appear to 
think so. They claim that all classes, not only shall 
be represented, but shall actually participate in the 
government. If, for example, in this model republic 
of ours, there were a class of knaves or fools, that 
class would claim to be fitly represented in Congress. 
And were it not forbidden to speak evil of dignities, 
one might whisper to his neighbour that this claim 
has been fully recognized. This, at least, may be 
openly asserted, that every man in Congress is not 
the best man in his district, — and so generally of the 
other departments ; and hence, that our government, 
as at present carried on, is not obnoxious to the im- 



21 



putation of aristocracy, in its literal signification. 
The truth is, that office now goes chiefly to those 
who most energetically seek it ; and the best men are 
not likely to be office-seekers. There is, or was, in 
manly and honorable bosoms, a sort of old-fashioned 
prejudice against soliciting office. The rule was, that 
office should seek the man for his worth, and not he 
the office for its worth. Then, it was the man who 
did honor to the office ; now, it is the office which 
does honor to the man, — if, indeed, there be now any 
honor in the matter. O, it is a humiliating spectacle 
to see the crowds of hale, hearty, robust men, who 
daily knock at the doors of power, and, like the daugh- 
ters of the horseleech, cry, " Give ! Give ! " I have 
tried to imagine some of our great forefathers — the 
Washingtons, the Adamses, the Jays — asking for 
votes or cabinet appointments. But the thing is un- 
imaginable : — 

" Theirs was no common party race, 
Jostling by dark intrigue for place." 

But now there is no such squeamish delicacy. Our 
prominent men do not scruple to put forth what they 
call their claims to office. And forthwith they define 
their position, make their platform, give their pledges, 
and sometimes trumpet forth their own transcendent 
merits from every convenient stump. Verily, there is 
no occasion to declaim against aristocracy, while these 
practices prevail. Would that there were ! For, at 



22 



the risk of saying something which may seem very 
unpopular, I long to see a veritable aristocracy es- 
tablished all over the world. If the day shall ever 
come when our social and political machinery shall 
be so harmoniously adjusted, that, for each thing to 
be done, the very man of all others best fitted to do 
it shall be selected to do it, and shall do it, whether 
it be to make laws or administer them, to command 
fleets or armies, to educate youth, or till the ground, 
or whatever else it may be, — when all men and wom- 
en shall come to occupy the exact places for which 
they are best qualified, — then, as it seems to me, and 
not till then, shall we have the best government im- 
aginable. And if mortals were angels, or if angels 
were to govern mortals, I think the state of things on 
earth would be something like this. Then we should 
have a real aristocracy, which would, at the same 
time, be the most perfect democracy. 

There is, however, a spurious aristocracy, for which 
I feel no admiration. I mean the miscalled aristoc- 
racy of wealth. It is this which has brought the 
word into such general opprobrium. Nowhere, prob- 
ably, in the civilized world, is so much consequence 
attached to wealth as in this country. We plain re- 
publicans have a strange propensity to worship the 
golden calf. He is the best man, in the estimation 
of too many of us, who can count the most dollars. 
The old apophthegm was, that knowledge is power ; 



23 



but now wealth is power. Let the contest be be- 
tween wealth and talent, and wealth will carry the day. 
Talent cannot buy either puffs or votes, and wealth 
can command both. There is no argument more 
persuasive than the ingot. And hence the insane 
ardor with which we pursue wealth as the end of all 
endeavour. Hence the rush of crowds to California, 
for example, on the first report of gold mines there. 

" Mammon led them on ; 
Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell 
From heaven ; for e'en in heaven his looks and thoughts 
Were always downward bent, admiring more 
The riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold, 
Than aught divine or holy, else enjoyed 
In vision beatific." 

Do not, however, understand me as joining in the 
vulgar hue-and-cry of the poor against the rich. Up 
to a certain point, — that of entire sufficiency for all 
the rational enjoyments of immortal beings, - — the 
pursuit of wealth is laudable and praiseworthy. We 
should be " worse than infidels " to stop short of this, 
having the power to reach it honestly. But when we 
pass this point, and hoard up more than we can ra- 
tionally enjoy, not with a view to the endowment 
of some beneficent charity, such as this college has so 
often enjoyed, but simply for the purpose of flaunt- 
ing and purse-proud ostentation while we live, and of 
leaving a legacy of inevitable ruin to our children 
when we die, — then it is that we make wealth odi- 



24 



ous, and justify that bitter warfare beginning to be 
waged against it. Then Dives and Lazarus begin to 
teach their solemn lessons. Then rises up in the 
overwrought heart of toiling poverty the very natu- 
ral sentiment of Burns : — 

" If I 'm designed yon lordling's slave, 
By nature's law designed, 
Why was an independent wish 
E'er planted in my mind? " 

From the business of constitution-making, the 
transition is natural to that of Law-making in gen- 
eral. At a vast trouble and expense, " we, the peo- 
ple," not finding it convenient to make laws ourselves, 
every year or two elect a few men out of our great 
number, to do this work for us. Of course we send 
picked men on so grave a mission % Yes, in one sense, 
they are picked ! If we want a coat made, we look 
for the best tailor in the neighbourhood, and thereby 
get a good coat. But when we want a law made, 
what sort of men do we pick up for this great busi- 
ness '? Generally the noisiest politicians to be found 
in the district, who, instead of making laws for us, 
spend their breath, and our money, chiefly in making 
capital for themselves. And no wonder ; for what do 
these Solons know of law % They labor in their true 
vocation, working at what alone they understand. I 
well remember the first time I entered one of our 
legislative halls. I was then fresh from the study 



25 



of our beautiful theory of representation, which taught 
me that I was to gaze upon the assembled wisdom of 
the state, engaged in the sublime work of " prescrib- 
ing rules of civil conduct, commanding what is right, 
and prohibiting what is wrong." Brennus, the Gaul, 
could not have felt emotions of more awful reverence, 
in the anticipation of meeting the hoary and stately 
Senators of Rome, than I did. Nor could his amaze- 
ment have been greater, at being frustrated by the 
gabbling of those patriot geese outside of the Roman 
capital, than mine was, at what I saw and heard 
within an American capital. That capital was not 
at Washington; but I think the same thing might 
happen even there to one as unsophisticated as I was. 
I think that the ingenuous youth, who should visit 
Washington in the expectation of seeing the pure and 
concentrated essence of American wisdom, would 
come away disappointed. For, excepting the first 
three or four sessions, what has Congress done in 
the way of law-making, in the course of sixty years, 
except to create offices and provide emoluments, 
— to make presidents and secure places 1 With 
the exclusive power, for example, to regulate com- 
merce, — a great and beneficent power, — what na- 
tional system of commercial law has been provided, 
except with a single view to revenue, — laying duties, 
but not doing them 1 And the same is true of State 
legislation. Nowhere has there been any well di- 
4 



26 



rected and persevering effort to provide a general 
and complete system of law, bearing an American 
impress. I have said that not one tithe of the law 
which governs us has ever received a legislative sanc- 
tion ; but I might have said not one fiftieth. Veri- 
ly, theory and practice are quite different things. 

A class of reforms connected with Punishment 
has for many years excited great interest. No one 
hears the name of a Howard, a Fry, or a Dix, with- 
out experiencing the most grateful emotions; and 
no one names them without praise. Their " cir- 
cumnavigations of charity" make us think better 
of the whole race. And yet I sometimes fear that, 
in our humane and Christian zeal to ameliorate the 
condition of criminals, we may come to lose sight 
of the primary object of all punishment, which I 
suppose to be the prevention of crime. If we leave 
this out of view, and regulate punishment with a 
principal aim at reformation, I know of no warrant 
for the infliction of punishment. Now it can hard- 
ly be called punishment, if you make the condition 
of a criminal better than he ever knew before. If we 
convert what were once called prisons into schools 
of reform, or agreeable retreats, so as to make the 
condition of the convict vastly more comfortable 
and eligible than that of the great mass of the 
virtuous and laboring poor, this would seem to be 
creating an inducement to crime, rather than a pre- 



27 



ventive. It is clear to me that punishment should 
either be made effective as punishment, or else abol- 
ished altogether; and while I would be the last to 
advocate cruelty or barbarity, I should be very cau- 
tious about making punishment an agreeable thing. 
But what, then, — some one may ask, — would you 
punish by hanging or whipping] Or what would 
you do % I answer, that I would not take life 
in any case whatever, because I doubt the right 
to do so; because I dare not pronounce an irrevo- 
cable doom upon testimony which, however seem- 
ingly conclusive, may possibly be false; because I 
think there are other modes of punishment more 
effective to prevent crime; and because, whatever 
be the merits of this question, public opinion is 
now so firmly set against the death-penalty, that 
the execution of it has become almost an impos- 
sibility. Nor would I, in any case, make use of 
the lash; because the effect is to brutalize both 
the whipper and the whipped. Still less would I 
resort to fines, because this amounts to a sale of 
criminal licenses, for which the rich can pay with- 
out feeling it, while the poor cannot afford such 
luxuries. No. In all cases, I would make depriva- 
tion of liberty the consequence of crime; because 
the offender has broken the great condition upon 
which liberty is guaranteed; because this is the 
most equal of all punishments, since all love lib- 



28 



erty nearly alike; and because, by varying the cir- 
cumstances of imprisonment, it may be graduated 
to meet all degrees of enormity. But in every case 
I would make the prison a thing to be feared. 
And I would bring solitude to the aid both of pun- 
ishment and reform. For while I cannot regard re- 
form as the primary object of punishment, I should 
strive to make it a concomitant, whenever possible. 
And this, by the way, is another reason why I would 
not inflict death upon any offender ; since I see no 
tendency in this process to reform him. But if there 
be any mode of punishment in which prevention 
and reform can be combined, it is solitary imprison- 
ment. In the lonely cell, cut off from all inter- 
course with other criminals, crime can neither be 
learned nor taught; and there, if anywhere, good 
thoughts may be nurtured, and good lessons given. 

Another reform, which gladdens the heart when- 
ever mentioned, has reference to the Insane. We 
have learned that it is possible to "minister to a 
mind diseased," — that kindness can control the wild- 
est maniac, when cruelty would only make frenzy 
more frenzied. I know of nothing under the broad 
heavens, which so demonstrates the omnipotence of 
all-subduing Love, as the present discipline of our 
lunatic asylums. But in connection with this topic 
of insanity, there is one thing, as it seems to me, 
deeply to be deplored. I refer to the use, or rather 



29 



the abuse, made of it, as an excuse for crime. That 
a man whose mind is either so deranged or so 
enfeebled as not to be conscious of doing wrong 
should not be held accountable, is as much the 
dictate of justice as of humanity. But in recent 
times there has grown up a theory of moral insanity, 
according to which, without any obscuration of the 
intellect, the moral sentiments may become so per- 
verted, that a person so affected cannot avoid com- 
mitting crime, knowing that it is crime; and be- 
cause of the existence of this irresistible impulse, 
such offender is to stand excused. Now I shall 
not undertake to deny or admit the existence of 
moral insanity as a physiological fact, although I 
can scarcely conceive of such a sinless monster as 
it presupposes. But to introduce such a theory in- 
to criminal jurisprudence, I regard as one of the 
most dangerous innovations of our day. To my 
apprehension, it is neither more nor less than mak- 
ing depravity an excuse for crime ; and the greater 
the enormity of the act, the greater becomes the 
presumption of inculpability. Let a man act like 
a devil incarnate, and he shall go free of punish- 
ment, because no sane man would so act. In other 
words, every very wicked person is to be regarded 
as insane, — an object of pity, but not of punish- 
ment. Poor demented Nero, for example, could not 
help fiddling while B-ome was burning ; and Lucre- 



30 



tia Borgia is entitled to our tenderest sympathies, 
because she was impelled to her monstrous crimes 
by an irresistible impulse. I believe this strange 
theory originated in France, where the Marats, the 
Dantons, and the Robespierres are beginning to be 
regarded as innocent victims of the excitement of 
their day, and not at all the demons we have been 
accustomed to consider them. 

Having spoken thus of some of the prominent re- 
forms of our day, — - but leaving many of the best un- 
mentioned, for want of time, — I turn for a moment 
to one of the chief instrumentalities, namely, Elo- 
quence, for the purpose of remarking, that I can 
think of nothing which more needs reforming. Us- 
ing the term eloquence in its broadest sense, as in- 
cluding what is written as well as spoken, it should 
be the greatest moving power in society. He who 
can write or speak effectively wields an influence for 
good or evil, which involves a tremendous responsi- 
bility. If for good, we realize Moore's description : — 

"Thy words had such a melting flow, 
And spake of truth so sweetly well, 
They dropped like heaven's serenest snow, 
And all was brightness where they fell." 

But if for evil, Belial may be the prototype : — 

" He seemed 
For dignity composed, and high exploit; 
But all was false and hollow ; though his tongue 
Dropped manna, and could make the worse appear 



31 



The better reason, to perplex and dash 
Maturest counsels : for his thoughts were low, 
To vice industrious. Yet he pleased the ear." 

Now it has seemed to me that the eloquence of 
our day falls very far short of the influence which 
it once exerted, and might still exert. And I at- 
tribute this to two causes. 

The first is the miserably low moral tone adopted 
by the great majority of those who address the mul- 
titude, whether through the press or from the 
stump. We have in constant operation, night and 
day, working by steam, what has been significantly 
denominated a Satanic Press. Through penny 
newspapers, sold by boys at every corner, it speaks 
every day to millions, and appeals to their lowest 
passions and propensities. Whatever will be grate- 
ful to the most depraved appetite, or minister to the 
most degraded taste, is the choicest matter for its 
columns. It allies itself with policemen and out- 
laws, and thus invades the inmost sanctuaries of pri- 
vate life. Wherever a disgusting or revolting fact 
can be spied out, it is forthwith emblazoned to every 
eye; and when there is no such fact, fiction is re- 
sorted to for the levying of black mail. Nor does 
this press speak through newspapers alone ; but also, 
and with the same pernicious effect, through that 
host of poisonous pamphlets which we call Cheap 
Publications. Cheap, indeed % Why, nothing is so 



32 



dear. For consider what loads of pestiferous trash, 
all reeking with corruption, this cheap press sends 
daily forth to pollute and defile the minds of that 
immense class of readers to whom cheapness is a 
strong temptation. Truly I know of nothing so 
demoralizing, so flagitious, as this portion of the 
press. When I think of its wide-spread mischief, I 
almost question whether the art of printing has 
proved a blessing. 

And then our stump speaking, — how much bet- 
ter is that ? I have rarely heard a so-called popular 
speaker, who assumed an elevated tone. Instead of 
aiming to bring his hearers up to his level, his effort 
is — if effort be required — to descend to the lowest 
level he can imagine in his audience ; and he gen- 
erally manifests " a great alacrity in sinking." No 
wonder that shrewd observers have declared the 
curse of our country to be our popular speakers. For 
unquestionably, next to the Satanic Press, the great- 
est pest with which we are afflicted is our fluent 
demagogues. I sometimes think Homer was a 
prophet as well as a poet, and must have had one 
of our stump orators before his eye when he de- 
picted Thersites, — that inimitable type of the whole 
race of speaking charlatans. What reader ever 
blamed Achilles for killing the wretch with that 
memorable blow of his fist? It could hardly be 
called homicide to do the same thing now. I see 



33 



no salvation for such characters, except upon the 
hypothesis of moral insanity, before referred to. 
Johnson must have been listening to orators of this 
kind, when he denounced patriotism as "the last 
refuge of a scoundrel." For these men overflow 
with love for the poor, downtrodden people, who, 
but for their enlightenment, would probably never 
know how much they are imposed upon. 

But still another cause of inefficiency in our elo- 
quence is its want of concentration. For undoubt- 
edly, whatever definition we may give to eloquence, 
its prime excellence must ever be to produce the 
greatest effect by the fewest words. But how is it 
with our so-called orators'? I speak of the great 
majority, for, of course, there are glorious excep- 
tions. But is it not generally true, that they so spin 
out, or rather dilute, their speeches, that, in order to 
get at their drift, you must cull grains of wheat from 
bushels of chaff] I know of no better definition of 
one of these speeches, than that which geometers 
give of a line, namely, length, without breadth or 
thickness. And if, together with this scattering pro- 
pensity, there happen to be a smattering of learning, 
we have the speaker described in Hudibras : — 

" His speech 
In loftiness of sound was rich ; 
A Babylonish dialect, 
Which learned pedants much affect. 

5 



34 

It was a party-colored dress 

Of patched and piebald languages ; 

'T was English cut on Greek and Latin, 

Like fustian heretofore on satin." 

I look upon this disposition to elongate, both in 
writing and speaking, as one of the worst habits of 
the day. The earnest seeker after knowledge cannot 
help feeling that life is too short to permit any of it 
to be wasted upon such windy effusions. Has it oc- 
curred to any one to compare the debates in the Con- 
vention which formed the Federal Constitution with 
any of the recent Congressional debates'? As the 
former are reported by Madison, it does not appear 
that one long speech was made during the whole sit- 
ting of that convention, though composed of the 
ablest men, and occupied with the gravest subjects, 
of which we can form any conception. Washington 
made but a single speech, and that a very short one. 
Another illustration may be found in the " Grand 
Consult " in Pandemonium, as imagined by Milton. 
I know not that the records of ancient or modern el- 
oquence furnish so perfect a model of debate as this. 
Yet the whole does not occupy one tithe of the space 
of an average speech in Congress ; which, when the 
speaker is not wisely subjected to the Procrustes ap- 
plication of the one-hour ride, is apt to occupy at least 
six hours ; and the debate itself, unless justly decapi- 
tated by the guillotine of the previous question, at 



35 



least as many weeks. In fact, I think the very ne- 
cessity of thus gagging our orators in order to choke 
them off, is a significant proof of the extent of the 
evil. Nor is the case a whit better in our courts 
of justice. The first tribunal of the land has lately 
been compelled to adopt, and rigidly enforce, a two- 
hour rule, in order to get rid of the same intolera- 
ble nuisance. And I trust its example may be fol- 
lowed by all inferior courts ; for I do not believe 
there ever was a case, which, with proper prepara- 
tion, might not be better presented in two hours 
than in ten. Why now, more than of old, should 
men expect to prevail by their " much speaking " 1 
For when you have piled up words as high as the 
pyramids, they can only serve to entomb ideas. 

But, that I may not provoke the condemnation I 
denounce on others, let me bring these rambling 
speculations to a close, by turning for a moment from 
the present to the future. What shall be the result 
of these world-wide agitations, these daring experi- 
ments % Will present evil be compensated by com- 
ing good 1 Of this I do not, I dare not doubt. After 
this storm, a calm will come. Out of these ashes a 
phcenix will soar. From this present chaos order will 
spring. So religion teaches, and history proves. In 
the all-wise providence of God, human progress has 
never been constant. Very often have the prospects 
of humanity been disastrously eclipsed, and the hopes 



36 



of philanthropy shrouded in gloom. But always has 
the darkness been followed by brighter days. Al- 
ways, in this tide of human affairs, has the flood 
been far greater than the ebb. In the long and fear- 
ful struggles of our race, history records many more 
victories than defeats. The movement, on the whole, 
has been ever onward. The Islands of the Blessed 
have become more distinctly visible, as each reckon- 
ing has been made on the log-book of Time. 

I do not from this infer perfectibility, but progress. 
I rather rejoice in the belief that a state of perfec- 
tion will never be reached on earth ; but that, while 
ages after ages shall circle away, as in one eternally 
ascending spiral, no time will ever come when some- 
thing better may not be hoped for, — when there 
shall be no subject for reform, no field for philan- 
thropy, no stimulus to effort. For, O, how weary 
and objectless would be the march of generations 
over a boundless plane ! 

Meantime the great want of the age is Modera- 
tion. The lesson we should draw, from the survey 
we have taken, is neither to be obstinately conserva- 
tive, nor rashly progressive. The danger is that we 
shall become intoxicated by our amazing physical 
triumphs. Because, within the memory of most of 
us, the lightning has been harnessed to the news- 
man's car, and the steam-engine has not only 
brought the ends of the earth into proximity, but 



37 



has also provided a working power, which, requiring 
no nutriment, and susceptible of no fatigue, almost 
releases living creatures from the necessity of toil, — 
because of these most marvellous discoveries, we are 
in danger of believing that like wonders may be 
achieved in the social and moral world. But be it 
remembered that, in all our discoveries, no substitute 
has been found for conscience, and no machine to 
take the place of reason. The telegraph cannot leg- 
islate, nor the locomotive educate. The mind is still 
the mind, and must obey its own higher laws. Our 
most pressing needs are such as no mechanism can 
supply. What we most lack is true, earnest, sin- 
cere, faithful, loyal, self-sacrificing men. Without 
these, it is in vain that we extend our territory from 
ocean to ocean, and quarry gold as we do rocks. 
These physical accessions, coming so suddenly upon 
us, do but increase our peril. Adversity we might 
bear, and be the better for it. But how shall we bear 
this gush of seeming prosperity % Seeming, I say, be- 
cause time alone can determine whether it is real. 
If, with all these excitements, we do not become a 
nation of reckless adventurers, — gamblers, perhaps, 
would be the proper word, — if we do not cut our- 
selves entirely loose from our ancient moorings, but 
still hold fast to our integrity, our very continence 
will prove that there is still some sterling virtue left. 
For never was there so much reason for the prayer, 



38 

" Deliver us from temptation." After all our con- 
quests, the most difficult yet remains, — the victory 
over ourselves. We have now to answer, under un- 
tried difficulties, that gravest of questions, " What 
constitutes a state % " And the answer must be like 
that which was given long ago : — 

" Not high-raised battlement or labored mound, 

Thick wall or moated gate ; 
Not cities proud, with spires and turrets crowned ; 

Not bays and broad-armed ports, 
Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride ; 

No ; — men, high-minded men, — 

• • • • • 

Men who their duties know, 
But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain." 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



027 272 361 8 * 



